


not friends, exactly

by barnabashale



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Coming Out, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 11:05:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12957855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barnabashale/pseuds/barnabashale
Summary: “So!” Alana said, plopping down next to Connor behind the school. “Since we didn't really get any work done this weekend I figured we could actually look through my notes, as well as yours, today!”Connor gave her a confused look. “I thought we did a lot of work yesterday? You were over for, like, an hour.”“Oh, you were super high and spent that whole hour writing down the comparative comedic merits of calling the book Fuck Finn or Cuck Finn for the entirety of our presentation."Alana Beck doesn't have friends, neither does Connor Murphy. In the tenth grade they work on an assignment together for two weeks. Two years later Connor Murphy kills himself. Two years after that Alana looks forward and back.





	1. two weeks, two years

**Author's Note:**

> i posted this for like eight hours then deleted it because I had to rework a scene because I realized it came off wrong.
> 
> anyway alana beck and connor murphy are best friends but here's a canon compliant fic where i guess they aren't really. i just love alana and really wanted to explore her place in the story of dear evan hansen, and i think about her and connor's potential relationship a lot. so here's the manifestation of that so now i can stop thinking about it and instead think of alana and connor starting a book club together and being best friends #forever.
> 
> zoe/alana is minor and just in the epilogue. take that fwiw.

“Alana Beck and Connor Murphy, you will be writing a report on…” The teacher double-checked his list. “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.”

Alana was already sitting attentively in her seat, but she looked over her shoulder at Connor Murphy’s sulking form at the back of the classroom as their teacher said his name. He didn't appear to notice he had been mentioned, though, instead his attention seemed primarily focused on picking off the varnish from the woods on his desk and flicking it into a small pile that was beginning to form. Alana turned back towards the teacher and gave a quick nod at the assignment, with her trademark winning smile. She did always love a challenge.

-

Everyone knew what Connor Murphy was like. They had all known what he was like since the second grade when he’d thrown that printer at Mrs. Garfinkle over being skipped for _line leader_. Okay, so admittedly Alana felt she may of have reacted similarly back then, maybe thrown a tantrum versus a printer but being line leader was, like, the most important thing to a seven-year-old sometimes. It remained know through Connor’s since earned reputation, though, that he was like a loose cannon with an impossibly short fuse. Did he throw any more printers? No, but still he sure knew how to make a scene in response to what most of Alana’s classmates tended to think of as minor inconveniences and slight injustices. Alana kind of thought it was cool, though. Connor didn't take anyone’s shit, and Alana knew that at the end of the day he did get plenty thrown at him.

So Alana, like everyone else, knew what Connor was like, even if she didn't really know him. This knowledge of his unpredictable moods didn't deter her from approaching him with a winning smile at the end of class, though. She’d waited for him outside the door and when he eventually walked out after everyone else, always one to drag his heels, she fell into step beside him as he walked towards his next class.

“Connor, right?” Alana said with a grin. Connor glanced sideways at her and frowned but said nothing as he continued to walk briskly through the halls. That was fine with Alana, who plowed on cheerfully, “I’m Alana Beck, we got paired for the assignment- we’re doing a report on Huck Finn.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “Sounds great,” he said, deadpan.

Any response was a good response to Alana. She beamed. “Doesn't it? I think we got the most interesting assignment of everyone in the class, we have a lot to work with! There are so many interesting themes in the book regarding identity and contemporary American culture, as well there are a lot of arguments to unpack about the book’s presentation of racism and the effectiveness of its use of satire-”

“Got it,” Connor cut Alana off with a frown, stopping in his tracks. He looked a little flustered. “Listen, just save it for the report.” 

“Oh, of course!” Alana said, “and I can't wait to hear what ideas you’re going to bring to the report as well! Have you read the book before?”

“I- No,” Connor said quickly. 

“That’s fine, I can lend you my copy, I’ll give it to you during lunch tomorrow- you’re on a red schedule, right? So we should have the same lunch!” Connor frowned at Alana for an extended moment before shrugging.

“Sure, whatever,” he said, waving her off. “Now, look, I’ve got to run to class?” Alana had never seen Connor voluntarily on time, much less running, to class in her entire time going to school with him but she gave him a nod and her continued winning smile.

“Of course! Well- I’ll see you tomorrow!” Alana said, waving. Connor rolled his eyes again and gave a sarcastic wave before ducking into the crowd of students moving between classes and Alana had to run to get to her next class in time, at the opposite end of the school, but she wasn't upset about it. 

-

Finding Connor at lunch that next day turned out to be much harder than Alana had expected. It wasn't like she usually saw him in the cafeteria, although she wouldn't say she searched him out regularly, with her _telling_ him to expect her she thought he’d make himself easy to find. Alana searched, though, and found he wasn't in the cafeteria, nor the library. Alana couldn't check the boys' restrooms but she’d checked all the empty classrooms she could find. In all, it took 23-minutes of Alana’s 30-minute lunch period before she finally found Connor sitting behind the school and throwing rocks through the fence that boxed off the track and field. Most bounced off the wire.

“Connor!” Alana said, out of breath from running to find him.

Connor glanced at her and frowned. “Who are you?” he asked.

Alana laughed, but she felt a little awkward. Was he serious? “Funny! I was looking for you, remember, I said I’d lend you my copy of Huck Finn!” Alana held out the book to Connor with a grin. Recognition grew from the initial confusion on Connor’s face.

“Oh…” He said, taking the book. “Thanks?” Now he looked like he felt awkward. Alana just felt relieved.

“How long do you think it should take you to read it? I had hoped maybe we could get together this weekend and discuss what sort of themes we want to zero in on in our report.” Connor looked up at Alana like she was speaking another language. She pushed on as always, though. “My house is being bug-bombed right now, our dog brought in fleas last week, so we probably shouldn't meet at my place-but if your house is okay I’d love to meet there to work on it!”

Connor narrowed his eyes then, gaze bouncing from her to the book.

“Sure,” he said finally, hesitant but it was a certain answer. Alana beamed at her success and the bell rang.

-

Alana wondered, anxiously, what the parameters were for a felony drug possession. 

Was there something about proximity to a controlled substance? Could breathing in secondhand marijuana smoke make Alana guilty of a crime? Now that she thought of it, the air in Connor’s room looked more than a little hazy even with his window open- and on that note: who had their window open in the middle of November? It was getting kind of chilly in there.

Well, Alana, she thought, the same type of people who just had a _bong_ , like for _weed_ sitting on their bedside table. That's the exact type of person who leaves the window open in the middle of November. It felt just as blatant as the bong; which begged the question of why even bother trying to air out the room. The smell was awful, she supposed, but if Connor smoke so much to warrant the amount of smoke currently lazily clearing out of the room then would he still even notice the smell. Unless he was trying to air out the room for Alana’s sake. That was nice. Kind of.

“I didn’t take you for a smoker,” Connor said with a lazy smirk from his place on the bed where he sat looking through the notes Alana had given him. He didn't seem to be reading them.

“What?” Alana said, jumping further away from the offending shelving unit.

“You keep staring at that,” Connor waved a hand nonchalantly towards the bong before asking, “you wanna smoke?”

“No- no, thanks!” Alana said, rushed but somehow polite. What if this was normal for teens? No- no. Alana might not have a lot of friends, or any, really, but whenever she went over to an acquaintance’s house to study or for a group slumber party they never did _drugs_. This was highly irregular, she barely knew how to react. God, how would her dads feel if they knew she was in a stoner boys bedroom filled with smoke. Freezing cold from the open window.

Connor shrugged, smirk still on his face as he continued to leaf through Alana’s notes, definitely not actually reading them.

“Connor,” Alana said slowly, “you’re not-,” and she sighed, knowing the answer. “You're not, like, high right now are you?” It came out as a whisper and Connor looked up with a wide grin.

Jesus Christ.

-

“So!” Alana said, plopping down next to Connor behind the school at lunch on Monday. “Since we didn't really get any work done this weekend I figured we could actually look through my notes, as well as yours, today!” 

Connor gave her a confused look. “I thought we did a lot of work yesterday? You were over for, like, an hour.”

“Oh, you were super high and spent that whole hour writing down the comparative comedic merits of calling the book Fuck Finn or Cuck Finn for the entirety of our presentation, a full list of pros and cons and debating whether or not familiarity could justify a lack in comedic originality,” Alana said, still smiling, unbothered. She had been fairly bothered on Saturday as she desperately tried to get Connor to talk about the book seriously and he said ‘what book?’ every time, and then when Alana would say ‘Huckleberry Finn’ it seemed to be the trigger for his madness to return as he'd go on about Fuck Cuck Finn for another ten minutes. After an hour he said he was tired and Alana left.

“Oh, fuck, I found those notes this morning- weird,” Connor said. He looked a little pink in the face, embarrassed. Rightfully so, Alana thought, but she kept her bright facade. She waited for a beat for an apology from him, though, but none came up. Disappointing but not wholly surprising.

“But let's move past that,” Alana said, waving a hand. “Did you finish the book?”

“Yeah, yeah I did,” Connor said.

“Take any notes?” Alana asked, digging through her bag for her notes. “I still want us to decide on what we want the major focus for the report to be.” When she looked back Connor had that confused expression on his face again that he’d sometimes get with her. “So- do you? Have any notes?” Alana offered, wondering where he got lost.

“Oh, I guess?” Connor pulled out a beat up old composition notebook that said _Connor Murphy, Grade 9, 2011_ on its cover. So he didn't take notes often then. He flipped to a page in the middle of the book. “Here.” He shoved the book at Alana and grabbed her notes again, this time actually reading them.

Alana looked down at Connor’s notes. His handwriting was messy and all over the place, a little hard to read in places where it looked like he was writing quicker, the letters growing smaller and close together, but the notes-

“Oh, you wrote a lot,” she said. And he had. It was impressive there were pages and pages of comments on the text and the themes of the book. Paragraph long notes on the language used with both commentary on the use of slang and specific words he'd found to be of special importance and his perceived meaning. There were opinions on characters and introspective analysis of their actions. It was good stuff, he had gone so much more into the literal text than Alana had in her own notes, which were broader in focus and looked more into the book's place in the canon of great American literature and its themes influence on the reader

“Yeah, so? You did, too,” Connor said, defensive at Alana’s comment. Alana looked over at him, his face was sort of red and he gripped onto Alana’s notes as he read them.

Well, I have to, Alana thought to herself automatically. And it was true, it wasn't like she had much of a choice as to how much effort she could put forward in her academics. She knew she didn't have that much going for her, her hyper-involvement in school seemed to build up most of her personality. If she failed at school… Her life would be over, it was all she had. At the end of the day her dads and everyone at school, classmates and teachers, expected so much out of her. She didn't mind, though, at least most people expected something from her.

Regardless, whether it was for better or for worse, Connor didn't have that. He could - and did - do whatever he wanted, and everyone knew what Connor was like.

“It's really cool,” Alana said instead of going into any of that, and Connor’s grip on her notes loosened but his face only seemed to grow warmer. Alana beamed. “With all these notes I’d say we're making great progress! I see here, you wrote a list of overall important themes, on page four of my notes I’ve done the same- so let's compare them!”

Connor gave Alana that confused look again like he’d expected her to react a different way. It only lasted a moment before he turned to the fourth page of her notes and nodded along.

-

“Ah, Alana!” a beaming Mrs. Murphy opened the door only moments after Alana had rung the doorbell. It was Alana’s second time at the house the Tuesday after she and Connor had compared notes at lunch together. The first time, the weekend before, Mrs. Murphy had seemed surprised yet thoroughly overjoyed when Alana had told her she was here to see Connor. Alana got that, though; parents got worried when they thought their kids didn't have friends. Alana’s circle of acquaintances kept her dads unaware of her admittedly pathetic social life, but she hadn't realized that trick yet during sixth grade when her childhood best friend had moved away and Alana realize just how pathetic her social life was. It didn't seem that Connor wasn't aware of the trick, still. Or more likely he didn't care.

“Mrs. Murphy,” Alana said, smiling. “It's nice to see you again, I am here to work on the book report with Connor.”

“Of course, come in,” Mrs. Murphy said, still smiling as she ushered Alana into the house. “And call me Cynthia, please!”

That was awkward for Alana, but she smiled and nodded anyway, with an “Okay, Cynthia.” It felt too friendly. She quickly scurried up to Connor’s room.

Upstairs Connor was sitting at his desk, scrolling through a website on his laptop. Tumblr, maybe? He didn't look high this time.

“Hey,” Alana said, dropping her bag on the floor as she entered the room. She closed the door behind her. “I looked for you after school?” They had been supposed to go to his house together, taking the bus to his stop. She'd gotten a bit lost without him.

“I left after lunch,” Connor said, shrugging and closing his laptop.

“That's not good,” Alana said, and Connor glared at her. “But - to each their own,” she chirped, flushing. She quickly grabbed a notebook from her bag and sat cross-legged on Connor’s bed. On Monday they had managed in their lunch hour a rough outline of how they wanted to write their report and she opened her notebook to that page. “Let's type up what we have so far so we can edit it easier,” she said. “I’ll read it and you type; if we hear it out loud that could help, too.”

Connor nodded slowly and opened his laptop again. They got to work quickly.

After a good forty minutes of work, Cynthia knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for a response. Alana looked up at her from her place on the bed and had a strange feeling of being caught doing something wrong. Maybe it was the obvious concern under Cynthia’s forced smile. 

“Connor,” Cynthia started carefully, cautious. “You can't have the door shut if you're having a girl over in your room.”

Alana looked at Connor, whose face had turned a dark shade of pink. “Really, mom?” he said, exasperated and embarrassed. 

“Of course, Connor,” Cynthia said, with that forced sense of calm to her. Alana was surprised, now, they hadn't been confined to this rule last time, but it had seemed Cynthia wasn't too used to her son having company over, male or female. She was probably just remembering the rules as it was happening.

“Fine, whatever, we’re just doing homework,” Connor rolled his eyes and giving Alana an exasperated ‘ _parents_ ’ look before pointedly turning his attention to his laptop. Alana almost laughed.

Cynthia seemed happy with that response but there was still that odd intentional calmness continued as she turned her attention to Alana. “Oh, also, will you be joining us for dinner tonight, Alana? You're more than welcome,” she asked. Alana looked at Connor and saw him tense up, he shot her a quick look over his shoulder that said _say no_. But when she looked back at Cynthia she just saw so much hope in her eyes. She really wanted Alana to say yes, clearly. And, well, Alana couldn't let a grown up down.

“Of course, I just have to call my dads,” Alana said and Cynthia beamed like Alana had somehow given her the world.

-

Alana Beck notably did not have many regrets in her life. Her biggest may of have been the bad fifth-grade haircut right before yearbook photos when she’d been nervous about the fact that she was the only girl in class without bangs and didn't quite understand that her hair was different than most of the other kids back then. The only other black girl in her class had had her hair relaxed over the summer so she’d had bangs, too. Alana's dads wouldn't let her get it relaxed, but she thought maybe if she cut her hair in the front shirt enough the bangs would just… Do that. Of course, they did not just ‘do that’ and now Alana didn't look through that yearbook as a result.

That situation was completely overshadowed by the regret Alana felt sitting at the Murphy family’s dinner table on that fateful Tuesday. She should've taken Connor’s advice and said no when Cynthia had offered her a place there. What in the world had she been thinking? Mr. Murphy, who Alana would never dare try and refer to by his first name, sat at the head of the table and was constantly checking his phone and frowning. Alana's dads didn't allow phones at the table. Or frowning for that matter. Cynthia sat to his right and had a very forced smile on her face, but sometimes she’d glance at Alana and it would become a little more genuine. Alana found very little comfort in this. Connor sat beside Alana next to his father and used his fork to angrily cut his vegetable-pot-pie into smaller, less recognizable pieces. He hadn't taken even a single bite of his food.

Somehow, most awkward was Zoe Murphy. She sat across from Alana, next to her mother, and seemed like she was trying to keep her head down but couldn't help but looking at Alana in disbelief and confusion every now and again. Alana knew of Zoe, she was a freshman at their school and Alana had seen her around sometimes, but not often. She didn't get along with Connor, Alana knew that. Everyone knew that since the second week of that year when the two of them had a screaming match in the middle of the cafeteria. No one really seemed to know what it was about but it ended with Connor kicking over some chairs and Zoe crying. They hadn't been seen together at their school since. It was kind of surreal for Alana to see them together now, actually, sitting at a dinner table in a normal family environment.

It had been five minutes into dinner and no one had spoken a word.

Alana wondered if there was an easy out of this awkward family meal. Could she fake being sick?

“So- Alana,” Cynthia started, and Connor stabbed particularly roughly at his food but didn't interrupt otherwise so Cynthia continued. “How are you and Connor doing on your report? It's on The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, right?”

“Yeah,” Alana said brightly, sure the dinner was awkward but she wasn't going to make a point of that if she didn't have to.Talking about school was easy for her anyway. “We’re working really hard on it-” a disbelieving chuckle from Zoe came out of nowhere “-and we’ve got some interesting stuff. We decided not to shy away from the racial aspects of it that our classmate's might and are taking advantage of us being an African American and Caucasian pair writing the report on it. It's really interesting to discuss the book like this, I think our classmates will enjoy it.”

“Oh,” Cynthia said, sounding somehow more skyward than before, and Alana should of have expected that talking about her race might end up like that, but she smiled through it. “That's very interesting! I’d love to read it when it's finished.” Cynthia gave a supportive look to Connor who still gave all of his attention to his still untouched food.

Another four more minutes of straight silence followed.

“Okay, this sucks,” Zoe said suddenly. She frowned across the table at Alana, something both irritated and sympathetic in her expression. “You can leave if you want, Alana.”

“What?” Alana asked, embarrassed at how hopeful she sounded.

“Zoe, please,” Cynthia said carefully, tired.

Zoe rolled her eyes. “This is uncomfortable, Alana’s clearly uncomfortable,” she protested, Alana opened her mouth to contest this, even though it was true, but Zoe continued before she had a chance. “I’m just letting her know she doesn't have to stay,” Zoe glared at Connor as she said this, just as he looked up for the first time since they'd been seated at the table.

“Why are you looking at me?” he shot, and at his voice Mr. Murphy turned his phone face down and sighed heavily, speaking for the first time that dinner as well.

“Connor, please, can't you just make this a nice dinner for your guest?” He said, and Connor slammed down his fork.

“Are you fucking serious? I didn't do anything!” He yelled and Alana flinched.

Cynthia tried to speak, placing her hands on the table calmly. “Connor-”

“I didn't even want her here!” Connor said, cutting his mom off. Alana bit down on her lip. “Jesus Christ, I’m fucking done.” Connor pushed away from the table, his chair scraping loudly on the floor almost tipping over behind him. 

Alana felt frozen.

Connor stormed from the room.

A long beat of silence. Alana counted to twenty in her head.

“I should really get going,” Alana said when she reached twenty, suddenly in motion, wiping her hands on her napkin nervously. Cynthia seemed at a loss as to how she should respond as Alana pushed away from the table carefully. Mr. Murphy was glaring after Connor, shaking his head, and Zoe was staring at her plate, shoulders tense. “Dinner was incredible, Mrs. Murphy, thank you so much for having me,” Alana’s voice wavered as she hurried out of her seat. She felt hot and cold all at the same time.

She didn't remember getting outside, but she was standing at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the front door. She was breathing in short, quick bursts, clutching tightly onto her phone and willing herself to calm down so she could call her dad for a ride.

It was freezing. She’d left her jacket in Connor’s room.

_”I didn't even want her here.”_

Alana felt the tears begin to well up in her eyes. It was so freaking stupid, she and Connor weren't friends, she knew that. She had to know that. They were partners on an English assignment. Acquaintances. Nothing more. There's no reason he'd want her around, there was no reason for Alana to expect him to. Acquaintances never invited her to stay for dinner, they just got whatever they mutually needed from each other and then they parted ways. No reason for anything else. Alana didn't need anything else.

“Hey.”

Alana took in a deep breath, jumping slightly at the voice. She wiped at her face quickly before turning and looking over her shoulder to the stairs that led to the Murphy household. She fashioned a smile on her face.

Zoe stood in the doorway, outlined in a halo of warm light from the foyer behind her, holding out Alana’s jacket in her hand. Alana couldn't read the look on Zoe’s face, some sort of attempt at apathy that wasn't quite as well practiced as Connor’s. The whole Murphy family seemed to be constantly wearing masks.

“You left this in Connor’s room,” Zoe said. Alana stepped back up the stairs to grab it.

“Thanks,” Alana said, smiling at Zoe. It was growing tiring, but what else could she do? She had her own mask to keep. There was a moment when Alana could tell Zoe wanted to say more, as Alana held her own jacket but Zoe stood in the doorway, still.

“Sorry about my brother,” Zoe said finally. “He’s the worst.” Alana shook her head, though, and Zoe sighed. “Alana, you're good, everyone knows you're like super smart and nice so… You shouldn't hang around Connor. He's… not good.”

Alana frowned. Good. Not good. 

“We’re just partners on this assignment,” Alana said. Connor had made that clear. Zoe frowned but nodded, accepting the answer.

“Okay, just… Be careful?”

Alana nodded and put on her jacket. Zoe went back inside and Alana called her dad to pick her up.

-

Connor didn't show up to school the next day.

Alana didn't look for him.

-

Two days later Alana saw Connor in English class again. The report was due on Monday. After class, he stood outside the classroom. Waiting for her, awkward.

“Hey,” Connor said when Alana stepped out. 

“Oh! Hey, Connor,” Alana said with a forced smile. “You were out for a couple of days! Are you okay, did you get sick?” Alana didn't give a moment for a response. “We’re a little behind on the report, which is understandable if you were sick, so I took the time to write out some of it last night, I can email that to-”

“God, shut up,” Connor cut her off, rolling his eyes and Alana but her lip. Her smile wavered. Connor looked anxious. “No that- that's not what I wanted to say- not what I-” Connor cursed under his breath shaking his head. He looked frustrated. “Look, dinner sucked. My family sucks.”

Alana shrugged and she smiled returned in full force. “Oh, Connor, it wasn't really that bad-”

“You don't have to lie,” Connor mumbled, cutting her off again. “I know what it's like sitting there, suffocating. I can barely stand going to dinner every night that’s- _that_ is why I didn't want you there.” Alana nodded slowly. “Because they suck. And I hate it there.”

It was almost an apology. Not quite there but… It was enough for Alana.

“It really was no problem at all,” Alana said, brushing past the whole topic as she did, “Anyway, you should come over to my house then, after school, so we can go over what I wrote and get the powerpoint going!”

“I actually- uh- wrote a bunch too?” Connor said, looking away and his face turned pink. “I didn't want you to get saddled with all the work,” he mumbled. Alana beamed a genuine smile.

“Even better! I am sure we'll have the strongest report in class, definitely an A+!” Connor glanced at Alana and she saw the start of a smile ghost his lips.

-

Alana sat cross-legged on her couch after school while Connor sat on the floor, resting his head on his arm which was folded up on the edge of the couch seat cushion. They were both reading over each other's drafts, bowls of chips and salsa provided by Alana’s dads sitting on the table.

Hovering in the doorway, of course, was Alana’s dads.

They thought they were being sneaky, Alana was sure, but she could feel their presence as well as noticed Connor glancing nervously over to the doorway every now and again whenever they’d peek in. She wasn't sure what it was about Connor that was making her dads act so different than they usually did whenever Alana had a study group over. Usually, they’d just leave out some snacks and then go about their business as usual. She had a short moment of anxiety that maybe they could smell weed on Connor, but she hadn't been able to so she figured she should be in the clear regarding that. Unless she’d been desensitized to it? Alana tried to focus on just smelling any trace of pot in the air.

When Alana finished reading Connor’s draft she saw he was still highlighting sections of the last page of hers. He had written a lot, but she had still managed to write a bit more. “Hey, I’m going to get a glass of water, do you want one?” Alana asked as she stood up and stretched her arms. They'd been at it for a while, carefully reading.

“Huh? Oh- sure,” Connor said, glancing up at her for only a second before turning his attention back to her draft and making a note in a separate notepad window he’d opened up.

Alana rounded the corner into the hallway to pass into the kitchen just as her dads rushed in there. She rolled her eyes with a huff and followed after them.

Her dad was standing with a forced air of nonchalance sipping from a glass of water by the sink, and her other dad, Marco, was tapping his fingers on the table innocently pretending to scroll through something on his phone. Alana groaned.

“Why are you guys being so weird?” she said as she grabbed two glasses from the cupboard, glaring at her dad.

“Oh, nothing,” her dad said, waving his own glass and almost spilling some of the contents.

“Please, you guys are freaking Connor out,” Alana said.

“How?” Marco laughed from the table as if it were a question. Alana shot him a glare.

“Spying on us!” Alana explained as she went over to the fridge, poking Marco in the side as she passed him.

“Oh, I thought we were being very discreet,” her dad said with a laugh.

Alana groaned and frowned at him as she filled up her glasses from the fridge door. “Don't be like that sweetheart,” her dad laughed.

“Yeah, we’ll stop, we’ll stop,” Marco said and Alana rolled her eyes at him. “It's just,” Marco said leaning back in his chair with a mischievous smile, “not to be all _heteronormative_ but Connor is very handsome isn't he?”

“What!” Alana said, whipping her head around. Some water sloshed from the cups onto the floor. Her face was very, very hot.

“And you seem to get along very well,” Marco continued.

“And, and you've barely mentioned him before!” her dad added and Marco nodded seriously.

“So of course we are a little curious!” Marco said, reaching over to put a hand on Alana's shoulder.

“Connor isn't- we're not-” Alana spluttered, pulling away embarrassed. She turned back to filling her cups with water. “We're just partners for this paper, were not-” Alana cut herself off. ‘We’re not even friends’ was what she was going to say, but she didn't want to tell her dads that. Clearly, they were excited about this, almost like Mrs. Murphy had been excited when Alana had come over. God, was she going to take this away from them? “We’re just really good acquaintances,” she said finally, looking at both her dads. “You guys know I am way too busy academically to be considering getting into a romantic relationship already! I’m only fifteen!”

Marco scoffed. “Oh but sweetheart, young love can be so important, too! It's one of the joys of growing up!” Her dad laughed at the comment.

“Your dad is only saying that because he didn't actually date in high school,” he said. “I, on the other hand, did, and if you want to put it off, that's really only a smart decision.”

“I did too date in high school!” Marco gave an offended scoff. “Me and Juana were voted best-dressed couple at prom!” Alana’s dad laughed.

“You dated for two weeks, and only because you wanted a date to the prom. You've told me the stories,” her dad had a twinkle in his eye as he looked at her other dad with mock exasperation. Alana rolled her eyes and excused herself, with a warning to her dads to not spy on her and Connor anymore.

What a ridiculous suggestion, her and Connor?

Unless... She paused on the thought as she stopped in the doorway to the living room and saw Connor looking at both the printed drafts and typing in the google document on her laptop. Unless she was supposed to want that? She didn't feel like she did, but her fathers had expected it so maybe she was supposed to and, oh my god, what if Connor- No way. Absolutely no way in hell did Connor like her like that, Alana tried to look back and see if there was any indication that he might. Nothing, no way, it was impossible Plus, there was that rumor from the eighth grade that Connor was gay, and she wasn't one to believe rumors but-

“Are you gay?”

Oh my God.

Why did she say that? Why in the world would she freaking say that? Her voice sounded foreign she almost thought she may of have just thought it but Connor looked up, bewildered. Alana’s dads poked their heads through the kitchen door in surprise, wide-eyed and curious.

“What the fuck?” Connor said, his face going red.

And then he was pulling together his stuff and shoving it all in his bag violently. It was all happening so fast as Connor brushed past her without a word and Alana stood there frozen for a moment. 

Only a moment, though, as soon she'd regained her footing and ran to follow Connor quickly, arriving in the foyer just as he’d slammed the door behind him. Rude, she couldn't help but comment mentally, although she also figured she probably shouldn't speak on rudeness after her own comment. She shoved on her sneakers and rushed out after him. 

“Wait- Connor, that came out wrong!” she called down the driveway. Connor was already storming down the sidewalk. Alana groaned and chased after him. “Please, I didn't mean it like-”

“I know exactly what you meant,” Connor said, turning on her quickly as she caught up with him. His face was twisted and red. “What this whole fucking thing meant!”

“What do you-” Alana was breathing heavily from running.

“You thought you’d take advantage of getting saddled with the school fucking psycho to dig me for private information to tell your friends when you laugh at me, right? I’m sure you told them about the fucking dinner, too." Connor made a frustrated grunting noise, stomping his foot. "Well, fuck you!” Connor moved to turn away again.

“What, no!” Alana said, grabbing his arm. “I didn't- I don't have any-” she was at a complete loss for words. “I asked because- ugh! My dads! They thought we- me and you, were like, romantically involved or going to be or something! And I-” Oh she could feel it happening again. Alana, she warned herself, watch your mouth. Don’t say something you might regret. “I think _I’m_ gay.”

She was really bad at watching her mouth.

-

Alana and Connor sat on the curb for a while after that.

“Why don't you just tell your dads. They're gay,” Connor had asked after Alana had quit crying like an idiot. She didn't even know why she had cried at all, it might of have just been from the relief of finally just saying it.

“I dunno, I think they want me to be like… Normal, or not have to deal with what they had to, growing up gay, like, it's easier now but by how much?” Alana sighed heavily. “I don't want to disappoint them.” Connor nodded but he didn't look like he really got it, which Alana figured. They were from different worlds, her and Connor. She was surprised he didn't just storm away the second she’d blurted out that confession. 

They were quiet for a minute before Connor spoke again. “I…,” he said, trailing off and biting his lip. He looked away from Alana, ears pink.

“No, no,” Alana said, shaking her head as she realized. “I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me if you are or aren't gay, it was wrong of me to ask.”

“It's- well, it's not fine, I guess, but I mean,” Connor gave a frustrated sigh. “It feels like everyone at school knows already, and my dad treats me like crap over it, calling me a girl and shit so…” He shook his head. “I’m gay. Probably.”

Alana gave him a small, genuine smile at that. They were sitting fairly far apart the physical distance felt superficial as Connor returned the smile, just as small and tentative. “And I’m a lesbian. Probably. Now can we finish the report? I mean, no offense intended, but I’m usually done with my solo papers by this time in the process.”

Connor laughed now, shaking his head, “of course you are,” he rolled his eyes, “let's go back in.”

-

Things seemed good after that. They finished the report and Connor stayed over for dinner, Chinese takeout. That was really good, the four of them sitting around the table in the kitchen. Connor was awkward and first but then Connor admitted he didn't know how to use chopsticks and Alana’s dad said, “finally! I’m not alone! You cannot imagine living with these snobs, Connor.” Alana insisted on teaching Connor how to use chopsticks and somehow it was just… A lot of fun. The conversation came easily after that, Marco and Connor spoke about some band Macro had been a fan of as a child as Connor kept dropping his lo mein noodles with his poorly trained chopstick skills.

Alana couldn't stop grinning the whole meal and Connor actually laughed at least once. Even if Alana's dads did think they were dating and Connor had almost mentioned smoking pot once and nearly gave Alana a heart attack. It was really really good.

When school came the next day and the two of them sat together for lunch out behind the school. It seemed like they might actually be a little like friends? Alana didn't know what that meant for them but it made her happy. So terribly happy it was a little scary.

-

Over the weekend Connor came over again, the two of them spent their time practicing their presentation, Connor brought back his Cuck Finn versus Fuck Finn comparative arguments which this time had Alana laughing and telling him that he had to shut up because her _dads_ were home. They weren't spying this time, though. It was fun, Alana wrestling the laptop from him as he tried to fill out the bullet points on his list. With their presentation done, they decided to go get ice cream at the McDonalds a few blocks away from Alana’s house. A celebration, Connor had said and Alana thought she might pull a muscle from grinning so hard. 

Things got a little weird there, though.

Alana had been going on about something, she didn't really remember. She was doing that thing she knew she did often, talking without really saying anything just to ensure there wouldn't be any silence. It was a bad habit, but she couldn't seem to shake it. She couldn't count the number of times she’d been told she was recounting a story that all had been present for. It seemed to be going okay with Connor, though, he nodded along with her story as he ate his McFlurry. Until she got to one part of whatever she was recounting.

“-and so Zoe Murphy comes in the room-” and Connor froze at that, looking away from Alana and staring down at his McFlurry intently. Zoe Murphy, right. “Oh. Yeah, Zoe's your sister! She was there. Apparently, she's looking to join the jazz band? She plays guitar, right?”

Connor shrugged. “Beats me.”

Alana knew not to pry, it wasn't an acquaintance’s place to ask personal questions, but this was just weird. “You live with her, wouldn't you know?”

“Well, I don't.” Connor stabbed at his ice cream, it felt so similar to when Alana had stayed for dinner. 

Alana frowned. “What's up with you guys, though?”

Connor glared at her and Alana flinched. “You were there at that dinner.” A more generous answer than Alana had expected or, she thinks, deserved.

“Yeah, I guess,” Alana shrugged, taking a sip of her shake. 

They were silent, Alana searched for something to fill the awkwardness she had created. So much for talking just to fill the void, it was gaping now with Connor avoiding looking up at her, as well not really eating his ice cream anymore. Just stirring it around, causing the M&Ms to dye the vanilla ice cream a tie-dye of rainbow colors.

“I just wish I wasn’t so awful to her,” Connor mumbled suddenly.

Oh. Okay?

“But like,” Connor continued, sounding frustrated as he stirred the dessert more violently. “That’s fucking stupid, right? Like if I want to be nice to her I should just do it.” _But I can't_ , was left unsaid, but Alana felt like she could hear it. The words ringing in her ears as if Connor had spoken them but he couldn't let anyone but her hear it.

“Yeah, maybe,” Alana said. “But, like, you’re brother and sister! Aren’t siblings suppose to fight all the time anyway?” She shrugged and smiled. “I don't have a brother so I don't know, but that's how it is on all the TV shows, right?”

Connor scoffed and shook his head. “Sure.”

Alana’s smile faltered but she let it drop, moving on to comment about minimum wage laws and whether or not she’d work at McDonald's if they were paying fifteen an hour.

And then about the stigmatization of minimum wage service jobs. Or something.

-

‘ _Mental disorder that makes you mean to people_ ’

Alana typed the search into google, checking over her shoulder unnecessarily. She was in her room alone on that Saturday night and her dads were still out on a date. No one was there to peer over her shoulder and see what she was doing. Still, it felt weird to be looking that up, prying. Connor had just seemed so hopeless when he’d talked about Zoe, though. Like he really didn't know how to be nicer to her, Alana struggled to fault him for whatever slights Zoe saw in him. But it was personal like it was too personal for an acquaintance to be worried about another acquaintance’s mental health like this. She clicked the first search result.

Alana was up until midnight reading about various personality and mood disorders. 

She didn’t feel like anything became more clear, and she collapsed back on her bed looking up at her ceiling.

-

Everything broke down on Monday, the day their report and presentation was due. Alana saw Connor outside of school first thing in the morning. They spoke briefly about the presentation. Alana noticed he looked nervous, but she wasn’t worried about it herself. She assured him that she had their powerpoint on her keychain’s flash drive and he gave her a nervous smile.

Alana felt excited to do their honestly flawless report.

She saw Connor in the hallway on her way from one class to another, talking with his sister. It was even more surreal after the dinner she’d experienced, but she felt her heart leap at the memory of Connor’s confession at McDonald’s. Alana couldn’t stop to analyze the siblings, but Connor and Zoe were blatantly giving each other their best blank, nonchalant “Murphy” expressions.

Alana went on her day.

English came around and Connor was thirty minutes late to class. Alana squirmed in her seat. Since her last name was first in the class’s alphabetical order the teacher had asked her to do the presentation first. 

“Connor isn't here yet,” Alana had said. The professor had given a sympathetic look.

“Well if he hasn't been contributing-”

“He has!” Alana said quickly, defensive. Her classmates stared at her. “Connor worked hard on this, I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” Alana said, level. “We can go next.”

Connor came in at the 32-minute mark, three ten-minute presentations late. Alana noticed something wrong immediately. His eyes were red and glazed over and Alana felt her stomach dip. He sat down next to her.

“Connor?” Alana said, tentatively.

“Hm?” Connor said, glancing at her sideways.

“Are you okay?” Alana asked; because he must be sick, that was the only option.

“Oh, yeah,” Connor said, and he smiled, but it wasn't right. “Yeah, don't worry, I’m good.”

Alana was absolutely worried as she looked back at her classmate's presentation.

“Connor Murphy, thanks for joining us,” the teacher said at the end of the presentation, frowning as the pair who had been presenting returned to their seats. “How about you and Alana share with us your presentation now.”

Connor looked a little confused but he nodded and stood up. Alana followed him to the front of the class. She had this, even if Connor smelled awful and looked tired. She could save this, get them their A+ and then… She shook her head, she had to tackle these things one at a time.

-

It turned out Alana couldn't save it. First Connor had been dazed and silent, then he just lost it. She had prompted him to begin his part of the presentation and things went quiet as he looked at his slide. Alana held her breath and reached out to touch his arm or something, give him reassurance. All he had to do was what they practiced, read the slides and present the information.

Someone in the classroom snickered. There was a whisper from one student to another.

And Connor just... Looked down at his paper and _lost it_. It was like he was possessed or something, he just started yelling. Yelling about the class, the assignment, and something about Fuck Finn was definitely in there. Repeatedly. His face was red and their classmates _laughed_. Alana tried to interject and he ignored her.

She was at a loss.

And then he stormed from the class.

And Alana Beck broke down crying in front of the whole class.

-

Connor and Alana didn't speak after that. Alana thought about it, tried to, even. She’d gone to his usual lunch place behind the school, ready to demand answers for why he thought it was okay to show up to class high and ruin their presentation. But he wasn't there. Alana didn't see him at school for another week, and by the time he was back in class… She just didn't want to speak to him.

Time went on, after that. Her sophomore year ended and Alana didn't seem to have a shared class with Connor junior year. There wasn't any reason to see him.

Connor got worse, though. He was high in school more and more often. Skipped the whole thing entirely what seemed to be way more often than not. Not that Alana was paying that much attention, everyone knew what Connor Murphy was like and he was bad news. Alana stayed away from him.

It wasn't just Connor, though. Alana also got worse. As her GPA soared she began to feel how pointless it all was. Her academic success had always been everything to her, but now it was suffocating. No one liked her, she knew, she had plenty of acquaintances and no friends. She added more community work to her schedule to fill that feeling. One time during the year she sat with Evan Hansen and Jared Kleinman during lunch and they had become her go-to acquaintances for pretending she might have friends. It was all performative, though, just like every extracurricular and every A+ mark. Evan and Jared were just pretending to cover their own social slights as well.

Completely pointless.

-

The first day of senior year Alana Beck was assigned Connor Murphy as her lab partner in chemistry. It felt like a bad omen. 

Connor didn't seem to recognize her, which was weird because she looked relatively the same as she had back in the tenth grade. Connor was the one who’d changed. He was taller, after already being tall at fifteen, and he’d grown his hair down past his shoulders. His nails were painted black.

He smelled strongly of pot.

Alana didn't comment on that. “I like your nails,” she said instead, and it was genuine. It was just the kind of thing that had made Alana think Connor was so cool when they were younger. He did things just because he wanted to, even if other people didn't like it. 

Connor just glared at her.

He didn't show up the second day or the third.

After the fourth day, which he also was absent for, Alana was taking part in a nightly routine she’d had since her Nana died and it seemed like something had broken inside Alana as well.

Open an incognito browser on her laptop.

Check over her shoulder twice.

Google ‘ _suicide._ ’

Google ‘ _how to kill yourself._ ’

Deep breath. Consider.

A knock on her door rang out and Alana slammed down her laptop screen. Her dads were back earlier than they would usually be on a night they went out.

“Come in!” she said, and her dad stood at the door. Oh. Something bad had happened. It was just like when her Nana died. His face was serious and Marco wasn't by his side. Marco couldn't deal with giving bad news when he'd had to tell Alana her hamster died in the sixth grade he’d cried the whole time.

“Hey, sweetheart, how are you doing?” her dad said, stepping into the room. Alana thought about what she’d been googling.

“I’m fine,” she chirped. “What's wrong, though, you've got your serious face on.” Alana mimicked her dad’s expression and he only mustered up a weak chuckle as he sat down on her bed. Alana frowned and moved to sit next to him. “What happened?”

“Your dad and I were at a dinner with some coworkers from his firm tonight,” he started. “And we heard a familiar name, and wanted to talk to you about how you're feeling… It’s about Connor Murphy.”

Alana’s face went red. “What about him?” Alana asked. Had he been arrested? Did her dad's think that she was into bad business with because of the one paper they did years ago?

She glanced at her dad and saw that he looked even more upset and conflicted. “Oh, honey…”

“What is it dad, you're scaring me,” Alana said. Her dad took a deep breath.

“Connor killed himself earlier this week,” he said. 

Everything after went into a gray fuzz. Alana told her dad she hadn't known, they hadn't hung out in a long time. She said they weren't really friends, and they weren't. He told her that if she ever felt like hurting herself in any way to tell her. Alana’s laptop seemed to be screaming.

Alana's dad left her alone and she stared at the ceiling, lying down and trying to breathe steadily. They weren't friends. She thought about the personality disorders and mood disorders and the symptoms. She thought about the search results on her laptop.

She thought about Connor's black nail polish and how long he'd grown his hair. She grasped at the memory of him when she'd seen him in chemistry. Her last memory of him.

The next day she went to twitter.

The day after she set up the memorial blog.

-

“Connor and Evan were like _best friends,_ if you know what I mean,” Jared Kleinman said to Alana shortly after. It makes sense to her, looking back on it. She had never seen Connor and Evan speak to each other but thinking back she's not surprised to hear that they got along, and it wasn't like anyone ever saw her and Connor hang out either. Connor did love his privacy. Evan was quiet and nice, though, and funny when he wanted to be. He had a hard time speaking but Connor was patient when he wanted to be, and a good listener. Alana understood why they’d be friends.

Jared was obviously implying something else too, besides friendship, with that raise of his brows and quirk of a smirk. That didn't surprise Alana either if she was being honest. Evan seemed like he might be Connor’s type. 

It made Alana happy to think Connor might have had that.

When Alana messaged Evan about it, he seemed awkward. His responses were slower than usual, usually, he was a spitfire responder, trying to rush their short conversations by. His quick response when Alana clarifies they weren’t friends, just close acquaintances, gave a sense of relief. Alana got it, if what Jared implied about his and Connor’s relationship was true. Evan was definitely not out and Alana couldn't imagine he'd do well with the stress that can come with it. She’d come out the year before and sometimes it was definitely annoying, and there was a pressure she felt at being one of the few out gay kids at their school as well as more than a few rude comments. Definitely not Evan’s style.

-

When Evan mentioned the Connor project Alana jumped on it. It was exactly what she needed, what everyone needed. 

Then Alana had to go into the Murphys' kitchen for the first time in almost two years. It seemed to be filled with the ghosts of the last time she was there. She couldn't help but stare at the seat where Connor had sat that night, stabbing at his food. She took a deep breath, looking away.

“I didn’t know Connor meant this much to people,” Mr. Murphy sounded lost. Neither he nor Cynthia seemed to pay Alana much mind, which was better by her.

“Oh my god, he was one of my _closest_ acquaintances,” Alana said, and there was only a small spark of recognition in Mr. Murphy and Cynthia’s face as Alana detailed the extent of their relationship. 

A project on Huck Finn. That was all they’d had.

When Alana first saw the emails, things started to seem off. Most blatant to her was that in the emails Connor and Evan both asserted their heterosexuality a _lot_ , like even more than your average straight boy. So, like, a lot a lot. Alana just makes herself write it off as Connor being paranoid his dad might check his emails but still... He’d said he thought everyone knew. Maybe he and Evan weren't actually dating like Jared had implied and Connor had to hide his sexuality from Evan for fear of judgment from his only friend. That also seemed kind of off for what Alana knew of Connor, though.

The emails just didn't sound like him, but Alana hadn't talked to the kid in almost two years.

She regretted that.

She couldn't think about that, so she buried herself further into the Connor Project. Evan had been Connor’s friend, not her. If he said the emails were Connor’s then they were Connor’s.

-

As Alana reread the emails, they became completely senseless.

Discrepancies began to pop up everywhere. It wasn’t just about Connor’s sexuality anymore, even the timeline was a complete mess and the people reading the Connor Project blog were beginning to take notice. Alana had to approach Evan about it, in the process telling him that she’d posted the emails online. He was upset. 

“Those conversations are really… They’re private,” Evan said. Alana frowns at this comment. Why didn't Evan understand that this was bigger than them now? This wasn't just about Connor, it was about no more Connors. A community where no one was alone; and the emails embodied that. It was straight from Evan's speech: "that's the gift he gave me, to show me that I wasn't alone."

Now, Evan tries to talk away the issues in the emails.

Alana keeps positive, he can explain them.

She keeps reading the emails.

Connor seemed so happy in the emails. But it wasn’t right, it wasn't how Connor acted when he was happy. Alana thought back to the tenth grade, to their time together. Connor hadn't seemed happy a lot but… It hadn't been like this. Connor’s jokes, even, were so different than the ones in the emails, much crasser and somehow... funnier. This Connor in the emails felt sanitized and calm in a way Connor never was. Like an ideal Connor. Connor hadn't been an ideal Connor, though. He was mean and didn't know how to use chopsticks or be nice to his sister. 

Alana missed him.

She looked at the emails on her laptop screen, feeling something tight in her chest at these remnants of someone who wasn't quite Connor. She regretted leaving him alone after the incident in tenth grade. Over a stupid assignment. They got a B- in it and Alana cried and cried because she didn’t understand why Connor had done that to her. Like it was a personal affront. She didn't even try to talk to him after the first time, she could've. On his first day back he waited for her outside the classroom. She didn't even glance at him, speaking avidly to the girl who sat next to her as she walked into the hallway.

And now he was dead, and nothing was adding up and with every sanitized, perfect-for-Cynthia email Alana was beginning to fear no one was remembering the boy who got an M&M McFlurry and joked it was “for pride, you know?” just two days after coming out to her, who didn't laugh when Alana told him she didn't know how to do a braid and instead showed her how on a break while working on their presentation, and then _did_ laugh when she tried it and failed miserably, who got so scared of letting people down he just did it because hey- you have to face your fears, right? The boy who didn't know how to use chopsticks, or proofread his own writing, or not be mean to the people he cared about.

But... It wasn't Alana’s place to tell anyone about this boy. She wasn't friends with him, not really.

But was Evan Hansen?

-

It all went really fast after that.

“Why did Connor kill himself?”

Evan had no answer, of course. “You didn’t even know him,” he said. Alana didn’t, but she didn’t pretend to, she never had.

But Evan had, and now he was dating Zoe and calling Alana obsessed. Hypocritical, infuriating.

It's the closest she gets to telling anyone how bad it got. "Because I know what it's like to feel invisible, just like Connor."

She knows Evan did, too. She knows they're the same.

Evan contacts her later. She tells him she thinks he’s lying. His story is bullshit, she’s done believing it. She should've called him out on it the second it seemed fishy; if it was nothing he could of have cleared it up then. The regret is all-consuming.

He tries to clear it up, of course. He sends the suicide note.

The freaking suicide note.

Alana doesn't know what came over her, why she posted the note. When she first looked at it she almost believed it, and she wants to. But it's a lie and she can tell it clearly, the writing is wrong, it's not even consistent with Connor's fake emails. But it is exactly what she needed, what the Connor Project needed. She had to post it, it was exactly what the needed to fund the orchard. The orchard that would do good for everyone.

It was important.

Or maybe she was just trying to punish Evan.

Or maybe the Murphys, they sure faced the repercussions of her actions

Maybe she just wanted to hurt herself, make herself the villain of this story to justify how awful she felt inside every time she saw Connor’s face on the website or the buttons. Prove to herself that she is just as bad as she thinks she is for abandoning Connor.

-

Time goes on.

Alana doesn't know what Connor would of have wanted, if he would of have been angry at Evan for lying to comfort his family, or if Evan’s intentions would of have convinced him to forgive him. She didn't know if he would have supported the Connor Project if the orchard even meant anything to him. 

The orchard is funded. Alana wonders, momentarily if this counts as fraud when the Connor Project accepts the money. She remembers contemplating the law in Connor’s room, terrified she could face charges just by being near a bong. It was funny, now.

Alana goes to the re-opening of the orchard; she is now the sole president of the Connor Project so she has to. It doesn't feel like right, though. The Murphys are all there. Cynthia is crying, yet smiling as she looks around the orchard and the guests who have come to celebrate with them, with Mr. Murphy’s arm around her shoulder. He’s got his signature stern face but his eyes are shining. Zoe… Zoe looks nervous and rubs at her wet eyes a lot. She’s set to give a short speech, the first real one since the Connor Project has begun. Alana wondered how she allowed herself and Evan to take over the narrative as much as they had. They never once asked the Murphys for more about Connor, just a couple of blurbs for the blog and it was back to Evan’s stories again and again. Like a broken freaking record.

Alana opened the ceremony, thanking everyone for their contributions. She got a small applause and then stepped aside.

Zoe stepped up, avoiding Alana’s supportive smile. Understandable.

Zoe cleared her voice and began. “As kids, Connor and I came here with our parents. We- we loved it. Every year as the end of summer came we’d start asking mom and dad every day, ‘when are we going to the orchard, when are we going...’” Zoe took a deep breath and smiled. “For years it was like that, looking forward to running through the trees and picking apples and flying airplanes with my big brother. Right over there,” Zoe pointed, “We’d search for four-leaf clovers; we were really good at it actually. It was like a competition, I’d usually win.” The crowd chuckled and Zoe smiled a watery smile. “This is how I want to remember Connor, here in the orchard with me or... Here in the orchard with Evan, who couldn't be here today, helping him after his accident...

“But I can’t pick and choose who Connor was. Growing up with Connor was... It was hard for me. He wasn’t always, or even often, nice to me and so I wasn’t very nice to him. My parents,” Zoe looked anxiously at her parents who nod their encouragement, even Mr. Murphy, “they made mistakes, too. We all made mistakes which led to years of bad memories which covered up the good…” Zoe wiped at her eyes and took a deep breath. “Mental illness sucks, for everyone involved, but it really sucks for those suffering from it. Connor was one of those people. He didn’t get the help he needed, my family didn’t know how to give it to him but that’s not an excuse. There’s no excuse. Connor suffered through his illness and ultimately it took him away from us.

“We can’t change what happened to my brother, though. Everything we've tried to learn since he died won't bring him back so we can try and help him get better. But we can hope this orchard serves as a place healing for those who need it. That kids suffering like Connor was can come here and find a moment of peace. As well my family is proud to say we will be matching your generous donation for this orchard to make a large donation to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.”

There was a loud round applause and Zoe was properly smiling even through her tears.

“Connor didn't get to grow up thanks to his sickness, and so now we've all been robbed of his full potential, whatever that was. I've lost the chance to ever have any more good memories of him. We encourage everyone who is feeling like Connor did to reach out for help, to not allow their sickness to take them and their potential away from the world. Thank you so much for your time.” More applause as Zoe made her way back to her parents’ side where they enveloped her in a hug. Alana wiped at her own eyes.

Cynthia and Larry then gave a short speech thanking the crowd gathered for attending and everyone for their donations.

Alana drove herself home but stopped outside, at the curb. She got out of the car and stepped up to a spot on the curb she remembered very well. She sat down and looked at the grass next to her with a shaky breath. Three years ago she sat right there with Connor Murphy and told him her greatest secret and he told her his. They had smiled at each other, nervous because they didn't do that. 

Alana Beck and Connor Murphy didn't have friends, except in that one moment they had each other.


	2. epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> senseless and self indulgent.

Alana attends Columbia University in New York.

It’s a rainy spring day of her junior year when she sees her in a cafe nearby Alana’s far off-campus apartment, which is a modest place in Bushwick, Brooklyn. Zoe Murphy, guitar slung over her shoulder, leaning against the counter and laughing with the barista. Alana can barely believe it.

“Zoe _Murphy_?”

Zoe looks surprised. “Holy- Alana Beck?”

They sit by the window and are silent for a long time, reeling in the coincidence of it all. There’s an apology on Alana’s tongue that she hadn't been ready to make at 18 years-old Alana but now at 21 and three years into college seems easy. “I want to apologize,” Alana says and Zoe shakes her head but Alana shakes hers just a tad more insistently. Zoe smiles, small and sad. “I did a lot of things wrong with the Connor Project, I got too caught up in the idea of it, I think. I forgot about the real people involved.” Zoe doesn’t wince at the name, but she does look a little more forlorn. “I shouldn’t have shared any of that stuff, like the emails, but especially not the note. I know how it affected you and your family.”

Zoe shrugs, looking just a little more guarded as she picks at her nail polish. Just like Connor used to, Alana remembers. “It’s fine,” she hesitates. “It wasn’t… Real. Any of it. Evan made it up, actually. So, it doesn’t matter.” Zoe’s face gets red.

Alana hadn't know for sure that Zoe knew the truth, but she had guessed from Evan’s disappearance from all things Connor related. “I know, but-”

Zoe looks up, sudden. “Wait, you know?”

“Oh… Yeah, uh,” Alana looks away now, Zoe hadn't guessed Alana would know. She had no reason to. Alana wants to lie and say Evan told her or something easy like that, something simple and uncomplicated. But lies were what started this whole entire mess, she figures that Zoe has heard enough of them. “The emails, they were really inconsistent and, uh, there was something inconsistent with how I knew Connor.” Zoe raised a brow.

“You and Connor were friends?” Zoe asks, frowning nervously.

“No, no,” Alana says, waving her hands, and Zoe seems relieved. “Acquaintances, really. We just did the one project in tenth grade.”

“Good,” Zoe sighs, then looks nervous all over again. “I mean, I’m not glad he _didn’t_ have a friend in you just… I don’t think I could trust another person claiming that like another best friend we didn't know about. After what Evan did.”

Alana nods and there was silence again as Zoe takes a sip of her tea. “Yeah.”

“Actually, I… Remember you, when you came over for dinner when I was a freshman,” Zoe says, slowly. 

“Yeah,” Alana says. “You got my jacket for me after-”

“After I completely wrecked the dinner by opening my big mouth,” Zoe says, offering up an apologetic smile. Alana shrugged.

“It was so long ago, and it was uncomfortable, to be honest. I can’t blame you for anything from back then, really, I know it must've have been really hard,” Alana says, smiling softly back at Zoe. “I remember Connor once said-”

“No,” Zoe says suddenly, putting up a hand. She has a panicked look on her face, quickly covered up by embarrassment. “I just- I know you guys still worked on the project after that, that you'd hang out. He’d be out and he wouldn’t smell like weed when he got back, so I knew he wasn't with his dealer even though my dad didn't believe it. So I know you're not lying, but I- I can’t hear it right now. Whatever you were going to say. Whatever he said. I can't.”

Alana nods, biting her lip guiltily. Zoe looks so flustered, staring intently at her tea. When she speaks again it’s quiet.

“But…” Zoe says. “Maybe later?”

Alana leaves with Zoe’s number and the knowledge that she’s in the city studying guitar and music theory at Juilliard. She played a little for Alana and they smile and it’s fun.

-

Three weeks later they kiss for the first time, under the stars on the roof of Alana’s apartment. Zoe's got stars of her own in her eyes, she looks scared but hopeful and happy. Alana kisses her again.

Alana doesn’t know what Connor would want but she sure hopes he wouldn’t have any qualms about this.

-

Two months later they're lying in Zoe’s bed, drinking lemon tea and enjoying a Sunday morning. It’s raining outside, loud on Zoe’s giant windows of her east village apartment that must cost more monthly than Alana’s dads’ entire house, and Alana has a textbook on her lap while Zoe is practicing chords in the air, hand outstretched before her. Alana glances over at her and is surprised, as always, by how beautiful she is, lying down in the dim lighting. There's something concerned on her face, though.

“I want to know what you were going to tell me,” Zoe says as if adding to a conversation Alana wasn't aware she was taking part in.

“Hm?” Alana asks, glancing at her. She wonders if Zoe’s her girlfriend, they’re not Facebook official or anything. Zoe doesn’t have a facebook. She said, vaguely, she deleted it in high school and was too scared to make a new one. Alana knew why, and she apologized but Zoe shook her head and forgave her.

“When we met in that cafe, what you were going to say about Connor,” Zoe says, sitting up. She's looking out the window.

“Oh…” Alana senses there’s more. “I mean, I could tell you.”

Zoe shakes her head, pulling her knees to her chest. Her hair’s in a messy bun, stray pieces curling around her face. “I’m scared of it…” Alana doesn’t ask why she just sets her book to the side and pulls Zoe and her tea close to her. Zoe takes a deep breath, temporarily burying her face in Alana’s collar. “I don’t want to make the same mistake again.”

“What mistake?” Alana asks, but she can guess. She’s not an idiot, she’s noticed how her and Zoe’s relationship has mirrored the past. How it could seem Zoe was repeating exactly what she'd done in high school with her.

“Evan,” Zoe says, confirming it.

Alana spoke to Evan only once after she’d posted the note. After graduation, she told him she knew it was fake, that Connor hadn't written it or any of the emails. She asked Evan why he did it. He’d just shaken his head, and Alana didn't push it for once. She didn't need to know and she was tired and Evan looked exhausted and the Connor Project was pretty much over. Evan asked her why she posted the note if she knew it was fake. She still didn’t have an answer, she just did it.

Alana searched desperately for something to say now as Zoe pulled away, just a little. Zoe spoke first. “It’s not like- I wasn’t just with him because of Connor, I really liked Evan. It’s so dumb to think about after what he did but I did,” Zoe shakes her head and Alana runs her fingers through her hair. Evan was nice and kind, or he seemed like it. Alana had thought he'd be a good match for Connor, and when she found out he was with Zoe she’d been confused but happy for both of them. He seemed so nice. “But he-” Zoe looked away, at the large window, taking a deep breath. “He told me Connor said stuff. About me. Stuff that he didn’t... Obviously.”

“Oh, Zoe,” Alana pulls her close again, Zoe lets out a long breath now.

“And I want to be over it but, like-” Zoe was shaking now. “I never got to know him, and that was all that I had and Evan gave it to me and it was like, like, everything to me. It was stupid stuff; stuff Connor would never say, even if he did say nice stuff about me, but I wanted it to be true so bad.” Zoe looks up at Alana and Alana kisses her. Soft. Light. She wipes the tears from her cheeks. “I don’t want to cry over this anymore…”

Alana holds Zoe tighter, having no words for her yet, hoping that this would be enough. They sat in silence, the rain on the window the only sound in the room.

After a while, Zoe spoke again, much more composed. “But I want to know, what he said. Please, just- don’t lie for my sake. If he said something bad I want to know that, too.”

“He didn’t say anything bad,” Alana said. “Connor was always nice, except when he just wasn’t.” Zoe let out a small laugh.

“That sounds right,” she says, settling her head on Alana’s chest.

“I can't remember what it was I was going to say at the cafe, but we went to McDonald’s for ice cream once,” Alana starts. “We’d finished our project and it was a celebration, but I talked too much, you remember how I used to do that?”

“Use to?” Zoe snorted and Alana pinches her side, earning a yelp and a laugh.

“Whatever, I was just going on about school, which Connor didn't care about but he paid attention anyway, and I mentioned you, I can’t remember why,” Alana says, and Zoe’s grip on Alana tightened slightly. “He reacted and I asked why you guys were so… Not good.”

“Eloquent,” Zoe says, an attempt at a joke but it’s tense.

“I didn't expect him to answer like I knew it was personal, but he said he didn't know, and that he wished he was nicer to you.” There’s silence. Zoe lets out a long shaky breath.

“That’s it?”

“I’m sorry,” Alana feels choked up now, she feels like she should’ve asked Connor everything he liked about his sister, everything that made him want to be nicer to her. She should've prepared for today, she should've got all the words Zoe needed to hear, all the words Connor wanted to give her to be nicer. She had a sick feeling that she'd failed this divine plan that had brought her to Connor and then to Zoe; like she was supposed to have this and she didn't. “He said that was stupid and he should have just done it, and I went home and researched personality and mood disorders and I was too scared to talk to him about it again. He-he was sad.” Zoe holds her tighter and they're just holding each other and Alana is trying so hard not to cry because this isn't her loss it's not her grief. She only knew him for two weeks. They weren't friends.

“Can you tell me more about him?” Zoe says, her voice minuscule and scared. “I know it was only a week or two. I know the presentation didn't go well, he didn't get any credit for it… I don’t think you guys continued hanging out, he stopped going out for anything but drugs again. But I want to hear more, about those two weeks.”

Alana looked down at her. “We weren't-”

“You weren't friends, I know, but if he told you that, about me, I think he thought you were.”

Those words surprised Alana. That he might of have thought that when she was still too scared to let anyone in like that.

So she told Zoe more. She told her of every single unembellished moment that she had shared with Connor, which was hard for her. Of the comparative list he’d done stoned comparing Cuck Finn and Fuck Finn, of her parents thinking she and him might be romantically involved, of sitting out behind the school for lunch, of his dedication for the project and how embarrassed he had seemed by that when Alana was just as dedicated. She tells Zoe how he was the first person she came out to, how he came out to her. 

Zoe cried some more and she laughed and Alana wiped her tears and laughed with her. 

Alana Beck wasn’t sure if she was friends with Connor Murphy. They were partners on an English project in the tenth grade and chemistry lab partners for one day in senior before he killed himself. They were acquaintances. But for two weeks in the tenth grade they were at least _close_ acquaintances. So Alana may not know what Connor would’ve wanted to happen after his death, but holding his sister as they swapped memories of him, joyfully, of the times he was _nicer_. It’s the closest Alana has ever felt to properly honoring his memory.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: @shehulks  
> tumblr: vndoom


End file.
